


Fists

by cozy_downpour



Series: Moments | T&C [1]
Category: NWSL - Fandom, USWNT - Fandom, woso
Genre: F/F, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22143382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cozy_downpour/pseuds/cozy_downpour
Summary: Tobin throws a punch. Bar Fight ensues.
Relationships: Preath - Relationship
Series: Moments | T&C [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593790
Comments: 4
Kudos: 168





	Fists

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is part one of a collection of one shots I’ve been writing occasionally that are too short to live on their own. Hopefully I posted this the right way. Fyi: minor reference to hate speech but not fully spelled out for trigger reference.

Christen wiped the water from her hands on the thighs of her jeans as she walked out of the restroom at the crowded bar, squeezing past a few other women who had certainly felt the effects of more than a few beers over the evening. Thankfully she had never been a heavy drinker, meaning that she would at least remember the later events of the night- if she played her cards right. 

“You need to leave sir. This is the last time I’m asking you.” The loud booming voice of the bartender cut through Christen’s thoughts, her green eyes finding the front bar through a sea of scattered people. She picked up her pace, the heels of her boots clicking on the short stairs. The sight Christen walked into made her pause and gasp.

There was blood dripping onto the floor. A broken bottle across the bar top and a glass on the floor. Spilled drink trickled down the leather stool cover. “You too. Go before I call the cops on him because you’ll be taken in for battery and assault too.”

Christen raised her eyes from the floor to look at the woman across from her, golden-brown eyes hazy from the night of drinks.

“Tobin…” Christen whispered, tasting the salt from her margarita on her lips, her brows furrowed as she tried to piece together the scene in front of her. The bar’s second bartender, a taller heavyset woman named Georgie, was holding Tobin back from the man soaked in beer and blood to Christen’s right. “What did you do? What’s going on?”

The brunette shrugs her way out of Georgie’s grip and grabs the leather jacket she came in with off the coat rack next to the bar. She doesn’t speak, running out the door as quickly as she can. Christen sighs softly, pulling bills from her purse to cover her and Tobin’s night out. She adds a generous tip to the bartender still behind the bar and an extra one to Georgie. “I’m sorry about the glasses-”

Georgie waved her off, “You know we love having you two. Tobin did nothin’ wrong. I promise you. Just go make sure she doesn’t kill that hand before the season starts up.” 

Christen lets out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The two of them had stumbled upon this bar in Portland after a day out and had fallen in love with the friendly neighborhood vibe it had. They’d been returning customers and tried to come after Thorns games as often as they could. The bar was a little ways off from Providence Park, but it allowed them to be alone without being mobbed by fans. Georgie loved the two of them. So to see the aftermath of a bar fight that included Tobin was surprising, to say the least to Christen.

This wasn’t Tobin. The lanky brunette wouldn't hurt a fly. She would never admit it to Christen but on more than one occasion she had seen her trap a spider in their shower and release him off the edge of her window, whispering that as much as she hated the being it was one of God’s creatures and all of God’s creatures deserve to live. She’s peaceful. There have only been a handful of times Christen saw her grow angry, and Tobin always knew how to scale herself back before she got overheated. 

“Go away, Chris,” Tobin grumbles as Christen finally catches up to her walking into the parking lot off the side of the street that they went in.

“No,” Christen said firmly, gripping Tobin’s right arm to snatch the keys dangling from her nondominant hand. “I’m not going anywhere Tobin. What happened?”

Tobin’s shoulders shudder under the neon lights of Portland’s night scene and she just stops. Her legs bow and suddenly the dam breaks. She slides down against the alley wall facing the parking lot and begins to sob. 

“I’m sorry. I fucked it all up. I’m so ashamed of myself—this isn’t how I should behave,” Tobin started but Christen just sank down next to her, taking her bruised and bleeding left hand in hers. She kisses the raw and tender skin, shaking her head.

“Just tell me what happened. Deep breaths. I’m not mad, baby I just need to know.” Christen says. Her voice is softer, more gentle than she had been a moment ago. She has space and time to be angry later when her girlfriend isn’t collapsing into a broken, sobbing, mess in front of her in a public alleyway. She could smell the beer on Tobin’s lips still, mixing with the musky cologne she wanted to wear for a night out.

“He was- was all over you, and came up to me after you left asking about you.” Tobin starts, sniffling and wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “And fuck...he was so disgusting. The second he starts leaning over the bar and talking about your ass I had enough. I was stupid. I told him you were mine.”

Christen blinks as she realizes that Tobin was jealous. Of course, she was jealous. It was starting to click into place and part of her couldn’t help but feel warm at the thought of Tobin defending her. Maybe it was the drink she had over the course of the night but she knew Tobin loved her- and love makes you do stupid things.

“Was that all?” Christen asked in a quiet voice, knowing there was more to the story. She was used to men ogling her in public, and Tobin was used to hearing the comments- she knew to not aggravate the men but rather be more protective over Christen. Tobin’s lower lip slipped between her front two teeth as she struggled to tell Christen the rest. It was humiliating and upsetting. 

“N-no. See Chris,” Tobin looked away from her girlfriend, feeling her throat tighten at the idea of having to say what that man did. “He looked me up and down and said that you were too pretty to be a d-dy- like me, you know...and I know it was wrong. It just made it worse and I threw a punch because I haven’t heard that word out loud since college and we accidentally went to a dude bar off-campus and someone got in Ashlyn’s face.” She explained very softly, rubbing at her eyes. “Fuck Chris. I’m so sorry.”

“Georgie isn’t mad, she likely heard it too. It’s blown over Toby,” Christen replies as she pulls Tobin into her arms, tucking the older girl into her chest. “I’m not upset. I think it’s kind of hot that I have a girlfriend who will fight for me.” She kisses Tobin’s salty cheek, running her hand through her hair. “But you’re right. You shouldn’t be throwing punches like that. Come on, let’s go home. I’ll drive. Let’s get that hand bandaged up before it gets infected.” 

Gently Christen helps Tobin stand up, and walks her to the car. They drive in silence between the two of them, Christen’s phone connected to the aux playing her calming playlist. The music nearly lulled Tobin into sleep, her body exhausted from the exertion of anger and then whiplash from sobbing after. Not to mention the alcohol in her system still. Christen leads her into the lobby of the building, waving at the front desk security before keying into their elevator. Once inside their apartment, Christen has Tobin sit on her bed while she pulls out one of their dozens of first aid kits. “This might sting a little babe,” She murmurs as she cleans the wound with an anesthetic. Tobin hisses, her brown eyes puddling with tears again. She bites her lip, her right-hand curling into a fist. 

Christen shakes her head at the movement, applying Neosporin and then grabbing a bandage. She pulls Tobin’s fist back, clasping her hand strongly. Tobin’s eyes meet hers and they don’t speak. Christen closes the bandage, kissing over the clasp. She climbs up to sit beside Tobin in their bed, her arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t condone violence. I never have. But if I were you...I would have done the same thing.” Christen says swallowing as she speaks to Tobin. “He said something disgusting and it hurts even thinking that other people can hurt you like that. I love you Tobin, and this never will change that. You know that. Not a lot of people can say they’d throw a fist for the person they love.”

“I love you too. I just- no one deserves to be called that. Not you or me or anyone. It’s awful. I-” Christen silences Tobin with a kiss, cupping her cheek with her warm hands. Tobin leans into the kiss, her right hand tracing circles on Christen’s hip. “I’m sorry our date night got ruined.”

Christen laughs, tucking Tobin’s hair behind her ear. “Nothing’s ruined. We had a good night of dinner and drinks and you punched a man defending my honor. I think we forgot dessert though.” She husks in Tobin’s ear, nibbling on the sensitive skin below. It was hot, and Christen couldn’t deny it. Tobin taking a swing with her muscular arms and tight fist, she probably broke the man’s nose. And god how did Christen love those arms. 

“Dessert?” Tobin squeaks, surprised in the change of tone. She looks up at Christen through her long lashes, hand clutching at the fabric of her top. “Do I get something for defending your honor like a good girlfriend?” She teased. 

Christen leaned over Tobin, pushing her down on the bed. 

“Oh I think you’ll have a taste,” She says, quickly shedding her clothes as they roll back into the sheets.

•

Sweaty and exhausted they fall asleep with their right hands clasped over each other, creating one fist. Love had to be fought for.


End file.
